The Night Hoechlin Kept Score, and Won
by meghanhope77
Summary: RPF: Hoechlin/Colfer. Couldn't figure out how to tag it correctly, I apologize. Tyler flew solo to a club, and besides getting lost in his own thoughts, got lost in another interested party. Just a drabble I wrote at 1 AM for a friend, figured I'd share it for any interested parties. Dialogue heavy, read only if you really like words like I do. HAHA


The bass was pounding extra hard tonight, it seemed. Tyler sat at the bar and watched as his whiskey sour actually vibrated with the sheer force of it. He was sitting at the bar, alone, because for some reason he decided he wanted to come here alone. It wasn't exactly a gay bar… per say. It just happened to be a bar where gay men just happened to gather. And he could have brought Colton, but really that always just ends with Tyler alone while Colton literally dances with everyone, and him calling a cab alone to a text from Colton that says, " I'm safe enough, don't wait up."

A brush against his arm shook him out of his depressing pity party. It startled him enough to do a quick take to the body attached to the arm currently invading his person space. That take was followed by a quick double take, because it was none other than Chris fucking Colfer standing at the bar waiting for a bartender's attention. Tyler thought this was a bar for those non-famous-gays, where he could, in theory, dance and then eventually go home with a nameless somebody who would be too drunk to remember his name or face. He honestly didn't know where he stood on the whole scale-of-famous thing, he had heard he was pretty big on Tumblr, but really do they even come to clubs like this? He didn't really want someone saying anything to the press, but really would they even care?

His ridiculous musings were interrupted by that goddamn arm coming further into his space, and Chris reaching over him to get the bartender's attention by waving in his general direction. Which, Tyler knew would never work. He was feeling brave tonight. Okay that was a lie, he wasn't at all, but hell it was going past midnight and he was getting desperate.

So when Mr. Oblivious Bartender walked by, Tyler stood up on his stool, and yelled a powerful, "HEY" in his direction. And then he put on the smile. He's been dealing with this bartender all night, and hell that smile got him a free shot earlier in the evening. An illegal shot from the bartender who swooned over the smile. Hoechlin: 1, Bartender:…. Probably like 5 at this point? What number drink was he on?

"What can I get you?"

Mr. Not-Oblivious-Anymore Bartender didn't even look to Chris waving annoyed in his direction, but to Tyler first. A series of quick thoughts and mental preparation went through his head, things like "SINK OR SWIM, HOECHLIN" and "JUST DO IT YOU PUSSY". Oddly enough, they were in Colton's voice. Moving onto the task at hand, Tyler turned to Chris and leaned over on his stool.

"Name's Tyler. What you drinking?"

God, that wasn't even a full fucking sentence. Idiot. He righted himself back on his stool of solidarity, half expecting him to just walk away and leave him in a puddle of idiotic angst. But to his delight, Chris leaned back over to him. He placed a hand on his thigh to balance himself. He had obviously already had a few drinks. Hoechlin: 2.

"Chris. Rum and Diet, please. Two. Trying to convince a friend it is the best alcoholic drink like, ever."

Chris' eyes didn't linger on his at all, or really on his face…. Tyler didn't notice any kind of recognition. Just a passing glance like you would give a stranger. Which was perfect for him. Then he remembered he actually had to carry though this drink order he put into motion, and leaned up to relay Chris' drink order.

"Thanks for that. I was starting to think this place actually hired a blind bartender, which would be… wasteful. And stupid. Yeah."

Tyler laughed a clipped laugh. Chris had this kind of goofy smirk on, and his words were slurring. How many drinks had he had? Didn't really matter, great part is he didn't seem to recognize Tyler at all. Is it conceited to assume someone will recognize you? Chris seems like the kind of person would totally marathon all of Teen Wolf with his cat and the shades drawn so no one could see what he'd become. Dear god this was just getting ridiculous, and Tyler finished his drink to numb his thoughts as the tender of the bar came back with Chris' two drinks.

Chris slipped the bartender some cash, and Tyler had that inner panic that all of that foundation he had just laid would be for naught. And Chris would just go back to whatever posse he was entertaining that evening. Thankfully, that was not the case.

"You want to come over with me? We have a booth, and you're too scruffy and stuff to be sitting here alone."

Scruffy and stuff, he could roll with that. He shuffled to find a good sized tip he could throw on the bar, and nodded as Chris started walking slightly unsteady off to a far corner of the club. As Tyler followed his bobbing, quaffed head through the crowd of sweat and leather, he realized that him and Chris were the same height. Tyler had always thought he had a few inches on the guy. Then he looked down, and saw that Chris had on black lace up boots, with a chunky heel. Good lord, he was out of his fucking league here.

Chris slid one of the drinks across the table to his female friend, who looked vaguely familiar. Someone from Glee, probably. He used to watch the show back in the first season or so, when Chris looked absolutely nothing like he looks now with the strobes going, and his stupid hot boots and tight pants that were so distracting he hadn't actually remembered to carry on conversation with the person attached to them.

"WHAT TOOK YOU SO GODDAMN LONG. MAMMA WAS THIRSTY."  
"LONG ASS WAIT. BUT LOOK I FOUND A KNIGHT IN BLACK ARMOR WHO HELPED ME OUT. THIS IS TYLER"

Oh there it is. There's the flash of recognition he'd been dreading. Well, it could be worse. Chris still seemed blissfully ignorant, sipping on his drink and moving subtly to some Nicki Minaj song.

"ASHLEY."

Totally that girl from Glee. Nailed it. Hoechlin: 3.

"Come sit over here, good lookin'. Let's chat. Colfer can amuse himself, half the guys in this club are practically salivating over just his boots."

Shit, they were nice boots. Tyler caught himself staring. But suddenly he was being hugged around the middle, one arm stuck awkwardly by his side, the other holding his drink out of harm's way.

"NO. MY RANDOM HOT GUY. I FOUND HIM ALL ON MY OWN. GO GET YOUR OWN."

He said it like a goddamn 5 year old to his sister stealing his cookies. Tyler just chose to shrug, and take another sip of his drink…. Aaaand it was empty. Fucking great. With Chris' protective arm still around him, he tried to get the glass down to the table without any issues. Mission accomplished. And as he did, Chris also set his new drink down beside his.

"LET'S DANCE, OKAY? I'LL DRINK IT LATER. I HAVE TO DRINK IT 'CAUSE YOU GOT IT FOR ME. BUT I WANT TO DANCE NOW. BYE ASHLEY! BE BACK."

Tyler didn't even have time to think before Chris spun him around and dragged him into the center of the dance floor, where the people who really didn't care were dancing. He wouldn't even call it dancing, really it was just getting as close to someone as possible and kind of moving to the music. Which was totally fine to Tyler, and it seemed like also fine to Chris. Thankfully, Chris' sense of rhythm was world's better than most of the guys around him, which made the whole situation actually exciting and not something he'd do just to make the guy happy to get him to leave to go back to his place.

Chris found where he wanted to stop, and just pulled Tyler close behind him. They danced like this for a while, Tyler's hands residing mostly around Chris' hips, and Chris' hands going wherever the fuck they wanted. Which, Tyler had absolutely nothing to complain about. After a couple songs of them silently grinding and getting a feel for another, Tyler leaned his head around to Chris' ear. He had to yell to be heard over the speaker that was directly above them.

"You know, I haven't gotten to say barely three words to you since we met."

"And I'm totally fine with that, as long as you keep doing what you're doing with those large hands of yours."

Well, that wasn't really where he was aiming the conversation, but he'd take it. He was trying to be sociable, attempt some small talk. But apparently that wasn't Chris' style. Tyler was used to guys and girls alike chatting his ear off, and people setting up those lines that forced him into awkwardly telling a story from his youth, or an embarrassing family moment. This was a nice change. This was just senseless dancing with a sexy guy, with a fantastic ass. Hoechlin: 4. This was turning into a good night after all.

A few more songs passed, hips rolling and hands exploring. The bass seemed to get farther and father away the longer they danced. Things had been going pretty well recently for Tyler, so he decided to big or go home and take a chance. He planted a quick open-mouthed kiss to Chris' neck to gauge his reaction. His neck immediately bent, and Tyler could feel the moan in his throat though he couldn't hear it over the music. He took that as a green light, and began to kiss in earnest up his neck as they continued to move as one to the music. No hickeys, really Tyler just loved his neck, and he wasn't completely made of stone that all this dancing wasn't doing something for him.

He got up to Chris' lips, and just fucking went for it. Tonight was a night of "why the fuck not" now, and he really didn't think Chris would reject his advances. And he sure as hell didn't, and returned his kiss, albeit much more sloppily. But Tyler didn't mind at all. Chris turned around, lips still hungrily on his, and snaked his arms around Tyler's waist. There wasn't an inch of space between them, and their bodies lined up fantastically. The pretext of dancing was gone, and they were full on making out on the dance floor. Ass grabbing, tonsil hockey, absolutely shamless making out. And Tyler was on cloud nine. It had been a while since he'd been this carefree at a club, but damn was it nice. He had no idea how long they were going at it, no one else seemed to care either, but finally he had to pull apart to catch his breath. He looked directly in Chris' eyes for the first time that night, and they were absolutely gorgeous. Albeit, pretty glassy, but they also had that little bit of surprise when he also realized that was the first time they really made prolonged eye contact that night. Chris moved a thigh between Tyler's legs and spoke first.

"YOU'RE HOT."

"SO ARE YOU. YOU'RE GORGEOUS."  
"YOU'RE NICE. NO, BUT YOU'RE HOTTER. LIKE WAY HOTTER THAN ME."

It was hard for Tyler to even concentrate on even a two word reply with Chris' thigh moving like that against his groin. He'd much rather stop with the pointless conversation and just go back to the grinding. Now Chris apparently felt like talking.

"HOW MUCH LONGER DO WE HAVE TO STAY HERE? 'CAUSE, I'D MUCH RATHER CUT THE SHIT AND JUST FIND A WALL AND KISS YOUR BRAINS OUT. AND EVERYTHING ELSE THAT COMES AFTER THAT. LIKE EVERYTHING."

Damn, was he eloquent. Too bad Tyler was beyond the point of caring, and was so horny and buzzed now he just cut to the chase. He yelled this as close as possibly to Chris' ear so he would hear every word."

"How about we go back to my place, and you follow through with that everything and fuck me senseless."

Well. He did it. No going back now.

"ME FUCK YOU? WELL FUCK. THAT'S… UNEXPECTED. BUT FUCK YEAH! HELL YEAH! SHIT."

Tyler really didn't hear most of that, because Chris was trying to simultaneously talk and shove his tongue down his through at the same time. Which, wasn't really working, but Tyler got the idea by his hands on his ass that this was actually going to happen. Hoechlin: 5.


End file.
